


This Is Music

by WolfAndHound_Archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Glitterverse, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 13:53:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5930785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfAndHound_Archivist/pseuds/WolfAndHound_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius's records aren't music. Not compared to Remus's voice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Is Music

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Lassenia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Wolf and Hound](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Wolf_and_Hound), which was created to make stories posted to the Sirius_Black_and_Remus_Lupin Yahoo! mailing list easier to find. However, even though I still love the fandom, I am no longer active in it and do not have the time to maintain it. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in December 2015. I posted an announcement with Open Doors, but we may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Wolf and Hound collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wolfandhound/profile).

Curt Wild screams with a rough, throaty voice that speaks sordid promises of cigarette smoke and leather and sweat and sex; in the flesh (and gods, what flesh it is...) he is the personification of everything that pricks one's conscience. Brian Slade is more effeminate, with razors for cheekbones and diamonds for eyes and full, pouting lips which are enough to make Mae Murray turn in her grave with emerald envy. He sings in tones that are sometimes sweet, sometimes harsh... ALWAYS as addictive and heady as his drugs.

But neither of them create sounds as beautiful as those that are spilled from Remus Lupin's gasping, kiss-hungry lips when he makes love.

"THIS is music," thinks Sirius Black, as he puts his right knee on the worn blue denim that is pooled around Remus's ankles, and takes his lover's cock deep into his mouth again; a moan tears from Remus's throat, a combination of Curt's scream and Brian's cry, twined with Moony's growl like the three strands of his plaited hair.

Lord, the taste of him is enough to make Sirius's head spin.

He pulls away, and the frantic cadence of Remus's whimpers sends shivers through his body. The breathy cries, rhythmic repetitions of, "Oh... oh... oh..." and the reverence in Remus's voice when he hisses, "Sirius." The hands on his head, fingers wrapped and tangled in the silky black strands of hair. Chiaroscuro patterns of moonlight and shadow, the brown-on-brown grain of the heavy oak door, the hard floor beneath him and the way his robe is creased under his left knee... the way it's pressed between bone and stone will leave a long red stripe on his pale skin, he knows, but he doesn't care.

"Gimme danger," Remus whispers with Curt, but he stops after just two words. He can't continue. Sirius is no little stranger. Sirius is home. Sirius is love and life and heaven, all wrapped up and hidden in one person.

Curt sings about shivering. Low, quiet, sexy... dear fucking god, what a bedroom voice that man has, Sirius thinks. "Can you feel it," he's asking, over and over. "Can you feel it?"

"Can you feel it?" Sirius whispers. The words are slurred. Don't speak with your mouth full.

"I can feel it," Remus whispers, and he touches Sirius's face with his fingertips, traces the five lines of the staff, leaves burning imprints of the notes, and when his hand falls away it leaves a swirling clef by Sirius's jaw. "Sirius, please... I want to feel it."

The plea is thick with lust and Sirius is suddenly angry with himself... Remus should never have to beg from him. And so he moves again, dragging his lips up and down the hard, saliva-slick flesh, wringing every last cry from him, every last drop of fluid.

"Oh, oh," Remus gasps again. His fingers tighten their grip. "I love you, love you..."

And Sirius knows he wouldn't give a fuck if he never heard Curt Wild sing again.

~END~


End file.
